


Missed shot

by darkandstormyslash



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, oswald mosley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21515044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandstormyslash/pseuds/darkandstormyslash
Summary: Two shots that didn't kill, two little vignettes at Margate
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52
Collections: Peaky Blinders Exchange Round Two: Season 5 Edition





	Missed shot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weeo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weeo/gifts).



The first few times in Margate are stilted and awkward. Tommy has shot many men in the face before, but this is the first time one of them has hung around to be passively-aggressively annoyed at him afterwards. He's not quite sure how to react. Alfie also seems unsure, not clear whether he should be helpful and supportive, or just gently torturing Tommy as much as he knows how. They barely touch the first few times, awkwardly trying to rekindle a relationship whose foundations have totally shifted.

Even a marriage is allowed to end when one part of it is legally dead.

It's Alfie, naturally, who solves it. Alfie who realises that the best way to rekindle a dying flame is to pour petrol over it and see if anything is left after the resulting explosion. His hand grips suddenly and anxiously at Tommy's wrist, yanking Tommy down from where he's pacing the floor until he's sprawled into Alfie's lap.

"What are you doing?" Tommy splutters, as if he doesn't know.

"First time I took you, I held you down over my table, you remember? You had blood coming down from your nose, all over that nice white handkerchief. Now I don't have the strength to do that any more, Tommy my lad, so you're going to have to put a bit of your own effort in."

Tommy rides him, grumpy and put-upon, Alfie's hands around his hips and Alfie's cock thrusting up into him. Afterwards, he rests his head down onto Alfie's chest, sore yet more relaxed than he's felt for an age. "I missed you, Alfie Solomons."

"Shouldn't have shot me then." Alfie grunts back.

"I didn't _want_ to shoot you."

"I know."

It's a different sort of dynamic now. Tommy is sharply aware of the fragility of Alfie Solomons, the thin line they both tread between this world and the next. Alfie is no longer the instigator, grabbing and manipulating Tommy through strength of body and will. Now Tommy is more often making the first move. It's a form of penance - it's his fault, after all, that Alfie Solomons is here, a vengeful malignant spirit trapped in a chair in a room in his own head.

After he fails to shoot Oswald Mosley, it takes a full two weeks before Tommy feels brave enough to crawl back. He skulks in at the door like a misbehaving schoolchild, angry at himself and angry at the world, a horrible deep sinking feeling churning in his gut as he enters the room.

Alfie is sitting in the chair, eyes blank. Tommy wonders, for a horrible moment, whether he will have to relive the moment and explain. Surely, Alfie has heard, on the radio or from the newspaper. There's no hiding the fact that Oswald Mosley is very much alive.

Alfie raises his cane and taps it twice on the floor. "Come here."

A hundred excuses instantly flood through Tommy's mind. At this moment, none of them seem good enough.

"You know what the worst thing was?" Alfie says flatly as Tommy moves closer. His hands are clenched tight around the cane, knuckles white. "Worst thing was there was a small part of me Tommy, actually thought you might do it. I tried not to listen to that part, but it was there."

"I did want to shoot him." Tommy breaths, close enough now for the cane to strike.

"I know."

Tommy nudges at the cane with his boot. Even in his weakened state, Alfie could probably swing it hard enough to kill him. Alfie's eyes follow the movement, darting like a snake. "Is that what you want Tommy, hmm? Want me to swing it?"

Death is a kindness, Tommy thinks. Sometimes, death is a kindness.

"I refuse, Thomas Shelby, to pull the trigger for your own suicide. You know that don't you?"

Tommy's eyes drag up to meet Alfies. "I don't see why not, Mister Solomons. I pulled it for yours."

The cane twitches in Alfie's grasp, his eyes locked on Tommy. For a moment Tommy thinks he's just going to swing and be done with it, but then Alfie sighs, leaning back into the chair and patting his knee. "Always pushing, aintcha, Tommy? Always finding the biggest, maddest, most dangerous dog and giving him a poke. And now you're learning, see, that sometimes you'll get bit."

Tommy stays standing. "I've been bitten before."

"No you ain't Tommy, not by someone like Mosley. Sit down." Alfie frowns at him until Tommy grudgingly balances awkwardly on his knee. "I'm telling you this because I have. In Russia. I might have been too small to have remembered, but I _know_ what happened. They rounded us up and chased us out. Women and children, all screaming and crying. That's what happens Tommy. Doesn't matter how rich you are, how well connected, how important or powerful. They will bite you off and spit you out, are you listening?"

Slowly, Tommy leans his way into Alfie's chest. "I'm trying to stop him." 

"You are trying, Tommy, to play silly little games of your own devising." One large hand wraps itself up into the mop of hair on Tommy's head and drags it back. "You need a slap for that, but I ain't got the time or the patience quite frankly. If I hold the cane out, would you run into it?"

Despite himself, Tommy can't help a grin. "No."

"No? Ah well. Pity." The hand in Tommy's hair drags his face forward, and Tommy closes his eyes for a scratchy whiskered kiss that melts his heart. A kiss that deepens and brightens, moving them both away momentarily to a better place.

Tommy's not sure he's forgiven, not for shooting Alfie or for missing Mosley, but he's here, here in Margate with Alfie, and right now, the rest of the world can go mad for all he cares.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like this weeo!


End file.
